Jace had always assumed he knew grief, at least that he was no stranger to it, not after losing his father or how someone he had looked up to was to be called.

But nothing had prepared him for the day where he had learned that his little brother was dead.

Just gone. Gone.

Nothing had prepared Jace for the moment where he would stand at the cliffs and throw Luke's remaining clothes in the fire.

There was no body left, nothing he could say goodbye too.

And maybe that was the hardest part.